


Punk

by Moron1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Found Family, Gangs, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, I read too many fics where a group of loveable criminals adopt Harry as a child, Organized Crime, both harry as a child and when i was a child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 22:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17517173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moron1/pseuds/Moron1
Summary: There's no way that Harry was the only delinquent on Privet Drive. Maisie Jones definitely begs to differ. She didn't spend a good 12 hours sewing patches onto her leather jacket just to be ignored for a kid who looks like a strong wind would blow him over. So of course, her solution is to adopt him into her gang.





	Punk

Maisie Jones is a delinquent. Always has been.

 

She’s a punk, a bitch, a reprehensible waste of a child, whatever her parents and the rest of the old people in the neighborhood wer hurling at her that week. And she’s fine with it, because it’s pretty much true.

 

She’s got all the hallmarks of everything they spew at her, anyway. Leather, dyed hair, piercings, stick n’ poke tattoos that she did herself with tattoo needles one of her exes stole, low cut tops, etcetera. Oh, and she’s the leader of The Skeleton Company, a gang that would be way more hardcore of they hadn’t voted on a name while they were still in high school.

 

It started as just a shitty name for the group that hung out behind the school to smoke weed and fuck around, but everybody kept getting into shit and calling her to help, and eventually, it evolved into a group that hung out in her apartment to smoke weed and fuck around, and occasionally partake in small-time theft, drug dealing, fighting and maybe a bit of sex work. Anything, really.

 

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that she’d heard some old biddies gossiping about ‘the delinquent nephew of the Dursleys, the ones that live at number four?’, and she figured that she might as well see if he could be recruited. He sounded kinda young, but they could always use people that the fuzz wouldn’t look twice at.

 

People never stopped teenagers for drug smuggling if they looked clean-cut enough.

 

She strolled down the street casually, ignoring stares and making her way to No. 4. She saw a skinny, twig of a boy wearing shitty hand-me-downs mowing the lawn and groaned.

 

“You Harry Potter?” she asked, mostly disappointed but also somewhat suspicious about how he came to be doing what looked like most of the menial labor of the house, judging by the bucket of weeds, pruning shears, rake, and various other tools that she didn’t even recognize.

 

“Yes?” he answered nervously.

 

She sighed again and squatted on the ground next to him. “You good here, kid?”

 

He didn’t respond, just looking at her confusedly.

 

It was at that moment that the curtains shifted, the woman rather conspicuously spying on them drawing back, and a big oaf of a man barreled out the door before rethinking his approach and marching stiffly over to them.

 

“You’re one of those freaks, aren’t you,” the brute growled out, “I demand that you leave at once!”

 

Maisie looked down at her outfit, wondering what kind of freak she was supposed to be. She didn’t even look bad today, having put a little more effort into her outfit. Black skirt, lace top, and a mid-length cape jacket. So, it was probably a racism thing. That would make sense as to why their nephew looked like a vagrant rather than a whale like their child that was poking his fat head out the open dook and snickering.

 

“Oh, and while you’re at it, take the boy with you. It was your kind that brought him here, you might as well take him someplace he belongs.”

 

She paused, not that she was really doing anything, realizing that he was literally offering to give her a child. Like, what the fuck? Who  _ does _  that? She was probably going to accept, just to get this kid away from these fucking awful people, but still.

 

Maisie took the kid.

 

It took her almost all the way to her flat to realize that she had basically stolen a kid, and she had no idea how to take care of it. This was only really surprising because her flat was almost all the way in Greater London, and it had already been twenty minutes since the kidnapping.

 

“Oh shit. So, kid. Uh, are you like, okay with the fact that I kinda kidnapped you? I didn’t really ask first.”

 

Harry looked up, seeming just as in shock as she felt.

 

“I… I’m kinda glad to get away from them, but they’re still my family, y’know?”

 

“I get it, kid. My parents are bastards, but I still love ’em. They just… don’t love me. Anyway, why don’t we just keep you for the weekend, see if you’d rather stay with me n’ mine. If you don’t, I can take you back, but it’s your choice.”

 

It might not have been the most normal thing to do, but Maisie’s not much if she isn’t abnormal. And she also has a very loose set of morals. The perfect combination.

 

They walked into the flat, Maisie noticing that the only ones in there were  Pollie and Jay, which was good. Harry'd probably need a little more of an adjustment period before meeting Mace or some of the hangers-on. Mace was the more extreme of the original crowd, so it was probably a good thing that he was off in rehab again.

 

"Hey assholes, this is Harry. He's gonna be living here, at least for a while. Try not to fuck him up."

 

"Mays, did you steal a fucking kid?" asked Jay, looking at her incredulously.

 

"Hey, I didn't steal him, he was given to me," She shrugged, flopping down on the couch and motioning for Harry to join her. He sat down gingerly, and

 

"I don't know what the fuck you're doing, I just  _ know _  that we decided that human trafficking was out of the question. Like, we had a whole meeting about what moral boundaries we had and that was like, a big one."

 

"As I said, it’s not technically kidnapping when he came willingly and his relatives kinda kicked him out. And duh, I'm just taking care of him cause his relatives were like, abusive assholes."

 

"And how are you fucking doing that? We can't take care of a kid, none of us can even cook!"

 

"I can cook," Harry spoke up. He shifted nervously but held his ground, surprisingly. Maybe being around a bunch of caustic assholes that liked to fuck with each other would be good with him.

 

Y’know, learning to throw some punches back instead of just taking them. After all, most of the gang preferred it if someone roasted them back. More fun that way.

 

"See! He can pay his way by making us food n' shit. It's a great idea! Room, board, some new clothes, probably some toys, in exchange for making food and running some, y'know, errands for us."

 

"Fine. It's not like we don't have enough money to support one more person." Jay sighed, but he already looked like he was about ready to give in.

 

“So… he can stay right?”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

After Jay conceded, Maisie took the time to set out some ground rules.

 

“This place probably runs a bit differently than your place. You’ll be expected to help out and earn your keep, but everybody pitches in here. Don’t let the others push you into doing more than your share. You will have to help with the gang though,” Maisie paused, “Even if you choose to go home at the end of the week, you can’t tell anyone about anything that happened during your stay here.”

 

The kid nodded his head so quickly that Maisie laughed out loud, dropping a hand down onto his curls and ruffling them.

 

“Don’t worry though kid. I think you’ll like it here.”

e.”


End file.
